


The One Night Chance

by squishy_lotus



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby Kink, Chubby Yuuri, One Night Stands, Other, Pre-Series, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishy_lotus/pseuds/squishy_lotus
Summary: It’s the perfect plan, really. If he says no, no harm done. He leaves the next day on an airplane and you can avoid him by never watching any figure skating ever again. If he says yes, you get one glorious night with him.He says yes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've never dreamed in a million years that I would write character/reader, it's not a genre that I particularly know or read, but this was begging for me to write it?? I also didn't think that the first fic I would post on this account would be for Yuri!!! On Ice, let alone one that I would write when there's only one episode out. This is completely self-indulgent but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Notes on you, the reader: You’re wearing a button down shirt or a blouse that opens with buttons at the front and pants of some sort. Your roommate has she/her pronouns but the dorms are co-ed so that doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re written as allosexual but you could be aromantic if you want. There is penetrative sex but you choose what gets penetrated. When you’re having sex, you’re either shirtless, in a bra, in a short binder, or in a longer binder that rolled up at some point, depending on your preference. Have fun!

You first notice him during the winter semester in one of the classes you need to take in order to graduate. A cute boy with glasses that usually sits toward the front but never in the front row. His hair looks soft, his cheeks softer. When he walks down the steps out of the classroom his tummy bounces. It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

It’s only a few weeks later at the university ice rink, when you bump into him on the way to see your friend on the hockey team that you put two and two together. Katsuki Yuuri. He is the Katsuki Yuuri, the one you watched on television with your Spanish roommate who is obsessed with figure skating even though she can’t skate at all. The one you watched take his glasses off before his turn, the one who started off so beautifully and then faltered and then kept wavering and then fell. The one who wiped tears of off his slightly chubby cheeks as he stepped off the ice. The one who made your heart twist a little bit all the way through the commercial break. He apologizes even though you’re the one who wasn’t looking. He quickly walks away and you’re left staring, wanting.

From that moment on, you’re slightly obsessed.

You can’t approach him although you don’t know why. Instead you sit behind him, or several seats away from him in the same row. Once you sit in front of him and try to be sneaky when you glance back at him while the professor is talking. You take pictures of him sometimes and feel really creepy about it. You take them off of your phone as soon as you get home and hide them in a file within a file deep in your computer. You talk about him to your friends, you watch skating videos of him with your roommate. They all try to convince you to talk to him. It doesn’t work.

The semester goes by quickly. It’s your last one, his last one as well. Your fourth year, his fifth. He’ll probably return to Japan after this, you assume. You plan on staying in the city, getting an apartment, getting a job, never getting to have him, to touch him at least once. It hurts. He looks so fuckable. He gains more weight as the semester progresses and you find yourself even more attracted to him. It’s frustrating. You sit as close as you’ve ever dared to, three seats away, and shove your head in your arms when you realize his plush ass and thick thighs spill over the edge of his seat. It’s not fair.

Final exams come and go. There’s a going away party for all the graduating exchange students. You’re invited by your roommate who promptly informs you that she plans on spending the night at her boyfriend’s place after the party. She says this while staring at you intently, to the point where you look away, blushing, picking up the hints she’s dropping. 

It’s the perfect plan, really. If he says no, no harm done. He leaves the next day on an airplane and you can avoid him by never watching any figure skating ever again. If he says yes, you get one glorious night with him, and have no impact on his future whatsoever. Win win.

You’re at the party. He’s at the party. He’s had less than a beer but there’s a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. You have to move quickly or he’ll actually be drunk and then you won’t do anything because he wouldn’t be consenting. His low tolerance is cute, but inconvenient. You’re nervous, your palms are sweating, your roommate nudges you three times before you actually walk up to him. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Conversation is surprisingly easy. You make small talk about the class you have in common, he’s noticed you but not how creepy you are. You compare a few of your exam answers. You don’t talk about skating, you don’t want him to think that that’s why you’re interested. You talk about his hometown, how he hasn’t been back in five years. He slowly finishes his beer. When he gets up to get a second one, you invite him to your room instead.

He accepts.

It’s cold on the way there, but you’re warm with anticipation. Your hands brush when you walk, it’s an accident. He looks at you and it looks like he understands now. Where this is going. You’re glad you don’t have to say it outright. He doesn’t take your hand and you don’t take his, but the mood is nice, there’s a spark in the air. 

You get to your room and offer him tea from the kettle that’s plugged into the same outlet as your computer but he doesn’t want to impose so you take his coat and invite him to sit on your bed. In anticipation for this moment it’s made, but carefully tousled. The only lights on are the Christmas lights you put up to get you through exams. It’s easy to kiss him when the colours are reflecting in his glasses. 

Kissing Yuuri is warm and slow and soft, his perfect cheeks are still flushed from the outside, his nose is cold, you cup his face lightly and he keeps his hands on your shoulders at first, like he doesn’t want to intrude. You come up for air and you’re not embarrassed by how blown you know your pupils are, you hope he can see it, and know what he’s doing to you. You stroke his neck with your icy fingers and he shivers so you slip them under his collar. His hands slip from your shoulders, down your arms, to your waist. You kiss him again, deeply. You bring your hands up to his face again and give those cheeks a light squeeze. He makes a delightful sound of surprise and brushes his tongue against your lips. You invite him in. You’ve thought of kissing him before but never dared to picture what it would actually be like. Does he have any experience? It’s not something you could guess on either way. He’s shy but damn does it feel good. You coax him deeper with a tilt of your head and a hand at his nape. 

The room is getting unbearably hot. You imagine he must be burning in his sweater although you know the desire to take it off is purely selfish. You slide your hands down the front of his torso and play with the hem with a question in your eyes. He lifts his arms in response. Your first impulse is to be disappointed that he has a t-shirt underneath but it’s really hot to see his erect nipples through it, to notice how the sleeves dig into his arms a little bit, to see it straining against his midsection to the point where there’s an indent where you know his belly button is. Now you’re the one who is burning. His hands hover around your shirt collar.

“Can I?” He asks and when you answer affirmatively, you can’t help but sound breathy.

He slides his hands down carefully, caressing you as he undoes each button of your shirt. His hands aren’t even cold when they push the fabric off your shoulders. You bask in his gaze as he openly admires your body and smile when he catches himself and blushes. You’re kissing again, hard and fast this time and you push him down on your pillows and straddle his lap. You know he takes his glasses off when he skates but you don’t give him the chance to remove them. You do take a small pause though, to make sure.

“Is this okay?” You ask. He nods. “Is this something you want? Is it okay if we go… further?”

“Yes,” His voice is heavy with lust.

“Is it okay if we go… all the way?” You want to kick yourself for not being able to just say sex, but really sex is pretty vast and this is fine, right?

“Y-yes,” His voice cracks but it’s not with hesitation. It’s with want. Your whole body flushes and you’re able to forget to be nervous. He wants you and you want him so, so much.

He tugs you closer and you ravage his mouth, one hand in his hair and the other amongst the pillows to support yourself. His glasses fog up and it’s so endearing, you kiss the tip of his nose before reaching down to quickly grab a condom and a packet of lube from the drawer under your bed. You toss them somewhere next to you on the single bed.

His shirt needs to come off. 

You sit up on his lap and grind your hips down. He gasps and closes his eyes, you bite your lip. You do it again. He grips the sheets under him, you grab the hem of his t-shirt. His eyes fly open. You slowly start to drag it up. He grabs your wrists.

“Y-you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You say simply, voice strained with how much you really, really want to. He looks confused.

“Why? I mean, I’m not exactly…” He looks away like he really doesn’t want to be having this conversation right now. You feel a little bad but you need him to understand.

“You.” You kiss his nose again. “Are.” You kiss his mouth, once, lightly. “So.” You kiss the middle of his soft chest, over his shirt. “Unbearably.” You stare in his eyes and lift his shirt, taking his hands still wrapped around your wrists with you. “Hot.” You press a deep kiss right in the middle of his belly. He shouts out, and you can tell it’s a pleasurable one. It’s not the same for everyone, but you were hoping that it might be a sensitive spot. You do it again, and again, and it could be silly maybe, to make out with someone’s gut, but you’re both extremely turned on so what does it matter? With each kiss you dig your face in and apply pressure against his abs. You target different areas like his diaphragm, which sounds like it hurt a little, his sides which tickle but in a good way, and then lower underneath his belly button where you can tell it definitely felt good by the twitch of his cock against your throat. You lift yourself back up, both of your hands on his soft sides. “Okay?”

“O-okay.” He says, trying to catch his breath. 

You take his shirt the rest of the way off and throw it on the floor. There’s just enough light to be able to see him, how perfect he is, even better than you imagined. You cup his dick through his jeans. He moans. He’s so responsive. He has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead that catches the different colours of your Christmas lights. He’s mesmerizing. You massage his groin and watch the different faces that he makes for as long as you can before giving in and unbuttoning his fly. You have to push his belly up to do it and it’s enough to make you buck against him. Fuck. You take him out of his underwear first and then push against his pants until he gets the idea and lifts his butt. Everything about him jiggles when he plops back down and you’re so weak, you lower yourself and take his erection in your mouth. 

He’s hot and heavy on your tongue and you suck once, twice, before feeling bad because you don’t know if he would have liked to have a condom on before doing something like that. You pull off. He looks at you, dazed but not displeased. You want him in so many ways that for the first time that night, you regret doing it like this, on his last night, with no chance of a next time. You kiss the head of his cock, then the soft spot above his base, in his hair, you breathe him in. You kiss his belly again, under the belly button, in it, over it, higher, his sternum, one nipple and then the other. You suck on his neck but not hard enough to leave a mark although you can tell he enjoys it. You enjoy the way he makes room for you, tilting his head, and the way his mouth hangs slightly open when you pull off. He is everything and suddenly you desperately need him inside you.

You quickly get up to take your pants and underwear off, then you slide back next to him and pull him on top of you. It takes him a moment to read what you want but then he gets it and pulls himself up a little, slides himself between your legs. His tummy hangs just low enough to brush against you, skin on skin. You melt. You slowly dig your nails into his back when you pull him down, not enough to hurt. His weight on top of you is heavenly and you’re dizzy with need. You feel him pulse against you. He kisses your neck, your shoulders, your jaw. You shudder. You squeeze his hips. He sits up to put on the condom that’s miraculously still next to you along with the lube. You watch him fumble with the packet and God. He’s so endearing. Watching him slide it on with clumsy fingers is a treat, you can’t look away even though you can tell he’s embarrassed by it a little bit.

Yuuri is a caring lover, even on a one night stand he makes sure to prep you properly. It’s exciting to see him take the lead, even his look of concentration is hot. He makes sure to ask if you’re okay before pushing his tip in, and then the rest, slowly. It’s so good, and warm. He starts to thrust, ever so slowly at first and then faster, deeper, harder. You wrap your legs around him and guide his thrusts a little. He’s using both hands against the mattress to make it better, more controlled, so you wrap your arms around his neck. His belly wobbles between you two, slapping against you with the motion, making everything even better. You’re both moaning fairly loudly, it’s so good to hear him like this, you don’t think you’ll ever forget it. 

You’re close you can feel it, and he’s close too, you can hear it. You reach down to stroke yourself and it’s the extra push that sends you over the edge. Yuuri comes a few seconds after that with a shout and a cry, his face twisted in pleasure. You’re both panting, your window is all fogged up, the bedspread underneath you is damp with sweat. He pulls out, then collapses on top of you. You breathe together for a moment before he rolls off. 

You don’t know how long you spend next to each other, breathing hard, then softer. You throw an arm around him and nuzzle at the crook of his shoulder, not knowing if you’ll end up falling asleep like this or not, ready for either. Eventually he sits up to peel the condom off and wraps it in a tissue from your desk before throwing it in your waste basket. You sit up too. The silence that stretches isn’t uncomfortable but there’s a tension in the uncertainty.

“That was amazing.” You say with certainty because he needs to know. Katsuki Yuuri needs to know he’s excellent in the sack no matter what. Then you say, “You can stay, if you want.” There’s a small silence before you remember something and add. “But, ah, you don’t have to, if you need to pack still, for tomorrow and all that.” He looks a bit relieved, like he didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. Maybe he would have liked to stay, if it wasn’t for that.

“Aa, yeah, I still have a lot of things to throw in my suitcase,” He definitely sounds apologetic. “But I appreciate it. You were…” He’s blushing so hard, it’s definitely not a conversation that’s easy for him. “I had an amazing…” He tucks his head under his chin and manages to mumble. “…Thank you.”

It would be weird to say you’re welcome so you don’t but you do get up with him and help him find all of his discarded pieces of clothing. You quickly throw on pajamas, your coat, and your shower slippers, and walk him to the door of your dorm building. The only sounds are the buzzing of the hallway lights and your keys around your neck. He pushes the door open and there’s a gust of cold wind, but you step forward anyway and kiss him fully one last time.

“Have a safe flight,” You say. You don’t exchange numbers or email addresses but you do exchange smiles.

“Thank you. Again.”

The next time you see him is a few days later, on youtube.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at squishylotus :)


End file.
